A Sanguine Antiquis
by InnocentSkipper
Summary: Jack Jr is ten, and on the anniversary of his creation, he is sent a letter. Not weird in itself, but one doesn't see many snowy owls in an underground military base in Colorado...AU fic
1. Chapter 1

**Author Notes:**** So after reading a few stories about Mini-me going to Hogwarts, I decided to write my own. A few things though, this is an AU fic, so I'll be twisting the canon to my every whim and odds are it will NOT follow the original books very well. A few quick things; Firstly, I do not own anything. Secondly, the clone started at age ten in this story because I felt that made him more likely to accept Original Jack as a father-figure. And because I wanted to.**

**Cloned Jack is called Jack by the narrative and his friends, and Jacky to the SGC.**

**Original Jack is called O'Neill or the General by the narrative, and Jack by the SGC.**

**Teal'c calls Jacky 'young O'Neill' while Jack is simply 'O'Neill'.**

**I'm trying to keep my spelling deliberately inconsistent, eg. Americans say mom, while Brits say mum. Although I may accidentally slip a British word/phrase/spelling into an American's words because I'm Australian and was brought up with UK spellings.**

A Sanguine Antiquis

Chapter One:

Jack O'Neil sighed, thinking of his adopted 'son' who was, in truth, his ten year old clone. It was approaching the first anniversary of his creation, and Jack had no clue what to do about it. He couldn't ignore the day, but wouldn't celebrating it just hurt the boy further?

He groaned, he didn't need to be thinking these things when he had an important meeting with the President to attend in just under an hour. But as he left for the White House his son, his Mini-me, was still on his mind.

"Focus, young O'Neill."

"I am focussing!" Jack O'Neill Junior snapped as he was sent flying for the fifth time in a row.

Giving the boy a knowing look, Teal'c gave him a nod. "That will be all for this session, young O'Neill."

"Yeah, yeah." The ten year old muttered, glaring after the disappearing form of the Jaffa. Groaning, he laid back down on the foam practice mat. _Why do I have to have these memories._ He asked himself. _It's hard enough remembering Daniel and Teal'c as my friends, but Carter...damn Asgards and their damn cloning technology._ He sighed, getting to his feet. Kicking the mat as he left didn't relieve any tension and didn't serve any purpose except to make him stumble slightly. _Damn mats._ He added mentally.

Brigadier General Jack O'Neill stared incredulously at the bearded men before them. One had a long white beard, half-moon spectacles – he couldn't call them glasses – and robes. The other was wearing a neat suit, had a pair of simple tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses, and a well kept brown beard.

Apparently, they were wizards.

**End Note: Jack doesn't blame or hate O'Neill for being the original. He just hates having his memories as his own, and wants to be an individual. Also, I have no clue on how to divide this into chapters, so I'm imagining where an ad break would be placed =/ **


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Notes: I'm trying for longer chapters, but still no clue where to divide them. I'm also looking for a beta, if anyone wants a sneak preview. Mild language in this chapter, but used in fun.**

Swearing under his breath, Jack Jr entered the quarters he was sharing with his 'father' in the SGC. Because he was legally a minor, he had to stay here while the General – as Jack called the man – was off on missions. _It's only a damn meeting at the White House. I could've stayed home alone for a few damn hours._ He thought angrily. "I need a beer." He muttered, heading for the fridge.

Swearing loudly, he read the note the General had left in there for him. _Nice try Mini-me. Better luck next time. – G._

"Damn General, and his damn no beer." He kicked the fridge savagely, making tears well up as a pain shot through his leg. "Ah, crap." He said, as he saw his toe on an unnatural angle. "Damn fridge, damn no beer..." He grumbled all the way to the medical center.

When he limped barefoot through the door Doctor Janet Fraiser shook her head. "What did you do this time, Jacky?" She asked, humour evident in her voice.

"Kicked the fridge." He muttered, every bit the stubborn ten-year-old.

"And why did you do that?" She asked, helping him to sit on a hospital bed.

"The General took all the beer out." He sulked. She had to hold back a laugh.

"Alcohol has been proven to stunt mental and physical development." She told him firmly. "Last thing you need is to be shorter and stupider than the General because you're drinking so young."

Jack froze. He'd never thought of that. He looked at her out the corner of his eye. "I'm not sure if I should laugh or be offended." He pointed out.

"Laugh, sweetie. And no beer." She said.

He pulled a face at her. _Not damn likely._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The General was getting bad news too.

Not only are wizards and magic real things, but a really evil one is after a small child so the kid can't kill him...again.

He rubbed his head. "So you want my son – my normal, non-magical son – to pretend to be a wizard so that he can protect this Harry kid?"

"Essentially, yes." The older of the wizards said in a very British voice.

"Damn it all." Jack muttered, not realising his clone was saying the exact same thing. He looked up at them. "You know he's ten years old?"

"Currently, so is Harry."

The General nodded. "I don't make decisions for him, but I know he'll agree. Let me call him."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Jacky, the phone's for you!" Dr Fraiser called.

Hobbling awkwardly on his strapped foot – he refused to use the crutches – he hurried to the medical center's office, sitting on Janet's chair. "Hey, General." He said into the receiver, knowing there was only one person that ever rang him.

"Hey, kiddo." That rang bells. The General only called him that in meetings. "Listen, there are some people here that want you for a mission." His grin was growing. "An undercover thing, and you have to protect a kid your age." He was waiting for the catch. "Thing is, kiddo...they're wizards."

"Wizards?" He asked in disbelief. "As in wands and broomsticks, or rabbits and hats?"

A murmured conversation followed. "Wands and broomsticks, apparently."

He was quiet. "General." He asked slowly. "Do you believe they're for real?"

He nodded, though Jack couldn't see it. "Yeah, kiddo. They showed me some of their magic. It's real all right."

Jack nodded too. "Okay, I'll do it." His trust for his older self was obvious in his voice. "But I'm going to need a beer for this. Magic's real?"

O'Neill laughed. "Yeah, it's real. And Janet said to keep it away from you."

"But General!" He whined. "Magic!"

"Fine." It wasn't like magic was discovered every day. "_Half_ of one. I'll split it with you."

"Okay." Jack grumbled. "When'll you be getting back?"

"Not sure, kiddo." The General looked at the men in the office. "This is going to be a long story. Why are you in the Infirmary anyway?" He suddenly asked.

"Broke my toe on the fridge."

"Kicked it when you got my note?" O'Neill grinned.

"You're a right bastard, you know that?"

The General only laughed. "Behave yourself, kiddo. No more broken bones, hear me?"

"Yes, General."

"I'll see you when I get back." They both hung up, neither good with goodbyes.

"Broken bones?" The younger wizard asked with concern.

O'Neill nodded. "He kicked the fridge and broke a toe. He's a tough kid though, and he heals fast."

The younger wizard looked thoughtful. "We'll need to prove to him that magic is real."

"He believes." O'Neill said. "I told him it's real. If I believe it, he does too." He smiled. "We're...very much alike."

The wizard paused. "Would you have objections to permitting me to heal your son after this meeting?" At the General's shocked look the man added. "It will save recovery time, and make him fitter faster, not to mention giving him his own experience with magic."

"It won't hurt him?" O'Neill asked.

"Not at all." The man assured him.

"I guess that's alright, then."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author Notes:**** Another update? That's right! You have a partially dislocated knee and sleepless nights to thank. I love feedback, and feel free to tell me I suck, flames remind me of internet dragons. **

"Damn it all!" Daniel paused, recognising the frustrated tone. Peeking around the corner, he saw Jack Jr cursing at the door that blocked his path.

"Need a hand, Jacky?" He asked the angry clone.

"Sure." He groaned, hobbling a bit. Noticing Daniel's worried looks he brushed it off as smoothly as his 'father'. "Just a broken toe, nothing to worry about."

Daniel stopped. "What? When did this happen?" He fretted.

Jack rolled his eyes. "A few hours ago when I kicked the fridge 'cause the damn General took all the damn beer and left a damn note in the damn fridge." He was clearly irritated. "I _did_ see Janet about it, Daniel. It's all strapped up."

"Shouldn't you have crutches or something?"

"Yes, I probably should. But I don't, because I won't use them, and there aren't any in size tiny." He raised his eyebrows.

Daniel sighed. "Sorry, Jacky. I just...worry about you."

Jack laughed. "Thanks, Daniel." He smiled. "I've always worried about you too." Daniel's chuckle was cut off by a sly voice. "So what's this I hear about you being a dad?"

The archaeologist froze. "How do you know about that?" He whispered. "I haven't even told Jack yet!"

"So I'm one up on the old man?" The clone grinned. "Don't worry, Daniel. I won't steal your thunder. The secret's safe with me."

Daniel grinned weakly at his friend's 'son'. "Thanks, Jacky. I'll tell you about it later, alright?" Jack nodded. "I've got a meeting to get to."

"So do I, actually." Jack said proudly. "Undercover thing with the president."

Daniel was impressed. "What can you tell me?" He asked.

Jack frowned. "Not so sure." He said truthfully. "The General rang me up for a yay or nay, but the general outline is all I know. Haven't signed the confidentiality agreement yet, though, so to hell with it." He beckoned Daniel closer. "It's about wizards." He breathed into the man's ear. Daniel looked skeptical. "They're real, Daniel. The General told me himself." He said.

"You really trust him, don't you?" Daniel smiled.

Jack nodded slowly. "Yeah. I'm still getting used to being a kid, but I can trust him because I, y'know sorta _am_ him." He shrugged. "If he believes it, then I will too."

Daniel looked at him. "We need to have a proper talk sometime, Jacky." He said, wanting to help the boy through his issues.

Jack nodded. "I know, Daniel. I need to have it too." He walked off towards the meeting room.

Sitting on the chair, O'Neill swivelled while he waited for Jack to arrive. Hearing the door rattle and a muffled curse, O'Neill opened it. Scowling as he sat on the floor was his young clone. "Damn foot twisted." He muttered by way of explanation.

O'Neill nodded, helping the boy to a chair. "Mr President, this is my son Jack. Jack, the President."

The boy saluted from his sitting position. "Sir." He said formerly.

"At ease, soldier." The president smiled, casually returning the salute. "Now Jack, your father explained the purpose of this mission to you over the phone, and we have the files here if you want us to go over them with you."

"With all due respect, Mr President, there's no need." Jack said apologetically. "I've read through the files my father dropped off and I understand them as best that a Muggle can."

"Muggle?" The President asked.

"Non-wizard person." Jack said. "It was in the common vocabulary list. If I'm going undercover, I need to learn to speak like a wizard."

The President nodded, disarmed by this genius of a child. "Well then Jack, this is Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, and Robert Brown, the American Minister of Magic."

Jack nodded. "A pleasure to meet you."

"Let's get started, shall we?" O'Neill asked.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author Notes:**** Sleep would be good, but I'm too hyper. Robert Brown is a name I made up for the American Minister of Magic, because American wizards aren't mentioned in canon. Or if they are, I didn't realise.**

Dumbledore and Brown were amused by how much the boy was like his father. Not only did he resemble him, but even his speech and mannerisms were the same. _He obviously idolises his father._ Brown thought. _No wonder he believed in magic by a simple phone call from him._

Jack was fascinated by how the Minister of Magic had healed his broken toe with a spell. "I need to learn that one." He grinned.

"Jack has a habit of injuring himself." O'Neill smiled. "What's the record?"

"Forty-three days, sir." He answered instantly.

"Without needing a visit to the medical center." O'Neill smiled. "I was the same at his age."

"And I'll be the same at yours, sir." The boy replied, grinning at his father.

_Yes._ Dumbledore thought. _This boy is the right one to send to Harry. Intelligent, quick-witted, fit, and in possession of a decent sense of humour._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Returning to their apartment, O'Neill kept his word, pouring half a can of beer into a glass and passing the can to Jack. "We need it." He said.

Jack nodded. They sat on the couch drinking their beer in silence. "I'll be leaving soon for England." Jack said.

O'Neill nodded. "I know." He sighed. "I need to ask you, kiddo." Jack raised an eyebrow. "We need to-" A sigh. "Damn it, I'm no good at this thing."

Jack nodded. "Yeah, we do need to." He knew what the General was trying to say. _We need to talk._

"How are you?" _How are you adjusting to being a clone?_

Jack chewed his lip. "It's pretty weird. Especially at the SGC." He sighed. "Looking at the guy I used to see in the mirror standing in front of me. Seeing Teal'c treat me like a child. Having the guy I thought of as a little brother turn into a big brother. Seeing Carter..." He sighed, setting the empty can down.

"Here, kid." O'Neill pressed his still-half-full glass of beer into Jack's hands. "Half for the magic. Half for the talk."

Jack nodded, feeling the beer loosen his tongue and make it easier to say what he needed to. "I can see how she looks at you, General." He murmured. "I think that's the hardest. Not just losing what I had, but seeing you keep it." He felt the tears start to run. "I really hate this sometimes."

"I'm sorry." O'Neill said, not knowing how to comfort him.

"Sometimes I wish I could forget, so I could just be a normal kid." He sobbed.

"Everything?" O'Neill asked. "What about when the moons rose on P3-whatever, the blue one."

Jack smiled, knowing exactly what he meant. "That was an amazing mission." He agreed. "But it's not my mission. Everything belongs to you, even my DNA." He sighed. "I've got nothing."

O'Neill awkwardly wrapped his arms around the boy. "You've got me." He said. "And you'll steal my beer, so I guess that's yours too."

Jack laughed, and scrubbed at the tear-tracks on his face. "Sorry I got upset." He murmured.

O'Neill shook his head. "Get as upset as you need." He said firmly. "I don't know what you're going through until you tell me, kiddo."

Jack smiled, clearly very drunk. O'Neill wondered if he would remember it the next morning. "I like that."

"Like what, kiddo?"

"You calling me kiddo." He murmured. "I like it. I like Mini-me too."

"Doesn't it make you feel worse?"

Jack shook his head. "No. You're just teasing like I would. I'm okay with that."

O'Neill smiled. "The first anniversary of you existing is coming up. What do you want to do for it?"

"Big party." Jack mumbled. "Real big one, with Teal'c and Daniel and Sam and you."

"Do you want it for your birthday?"

"I dunno."

"We'll get you to bed. We'll talk in the morning."

"Mmmkay."

As O'Neill lifted the drunk and sleepy child and carried him to his room, he smiled. He enjoyed having Jack around, and wouldn't change it for the world. "Good night, Jacky."

"G'night pops." He murmured, making O'Neill smile.


End file.
